Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,17

not the general.

“I want that thing finished as soon as possible,” the Patriarche went on. “And I want the entire Third Estate to know when it is. Those ungrateful wretches need to understand that there are consequences for rising up against me.”

“Yes, Monsieur Patriarche,” the general said with a swift nod. Then he cut his eyes to Marcellus, and in a cool monotone voice that sent chills down Marcellus’s spine, he added, “Treason against the Regime should never be taken lightly. I think you would agree, Officer Bonnefaçon.”

Marcellus’s throat went dry.

Treason against the Regime.

Was that what his grandfather would accuse Marcellus of once he watched that microcam footage? Would Marcellus be the first to find himself in the path of the newly built Blade?

Marcellus tried to picture his grandfather’s expression when he would eventually connect the tiny device to his TéléCom. When he would press play. When he would discover that the Vangarde had been watching him that day he’d agreed to bomb the copper exploit and pin the blame on his own son.

Watching.

Marcellus felt a shiver travel through him as he remembered the day he’d first found the microcam and viewed its contents. He’d been shocked to learn that the footage had been captured right inside General Bonnefaçon’s study. Where all of his most private and secret conversations took place.

Marcellus’s heart started to pound as he suddenly realized what he had to do.

The idea made him feel physically sick, but it was the only way. His only chance of finding out what his grandfather was working on.

It was the very miracle he needed.

If Mabelle had managed to plant a microcam inside his grandfather’s office, then Marcellus could do it too.

“Now, enough business,” the Patriarche commanded. “General, put that TéléCom away. It’s time for you to shoot.”

The general tossed another glance at Marcellus before folding up his TéléCom and slipping it into the pocket of his pristine white jacket. He stepped forward, took a gun from one of the Patriarche’s advisors, and with ease and an austere calm, loaded the chamber.

Marcellus felt another chill run down his spine as he watched his grandfather carefully pull the weapon to his shoulder and squint up, with unrelenting focus and determination, at the TéléSky above. Even the dogs seemed to quiet as the general watched and waited.

Finally, a flock of doves whisked into view and looped above the heads of the hunting party.

Bang.

Marcellus winced as a mess of feathers scattered into the wind, followed by the awful flutter and flap of dying wings. A great arc of bird blood sprayed like a rainbow of red through the sky. The dogs took off after the fallen prey, yapping excitedly.

“Sols!” came a thundering roar from the other side of the general. When Marcellus glanced over at Laterre’s leader, his stomach clenched at the sight of the bright red streak of blood that had splattered across the Patriarche’s cheek and forehead and was now dripping down into the folds of his wide, plump neck.

Silently, Chaumont handed the Patriarche a handkerchief, which Lyon Paresse snatched violently from his advisor’s hand.

“Nice shot, General,” the Patriarche muttered as he wiped the blood from his face and neck. “Nice shot.”

The general lowered the gun with a contented expression and immediately reached for his TéléCom again. “Apologies, Monsieur Patriarche, but I’ve just received an urgent AirLink from Directeur Chevalier.”

The Patriarche waved one permissive hand toward the general as he used the other to continue mopping bird blood from his neck.

Marcellus noticed the general’s expression shift drastically as he watched the AirLink message play out on his screen. He almost looked, dare Marcellus think it, elated.

“I’m sorry,” the general said, handing his gun to the nearest advisor. “But I must cut this visit short. Officer Bonnefaçon and I are needed at the Ministère headquarters.”

“What is it?” the Patriarche asked gruffly.

The general shot Marcellus a cryptic look before turning back to the Patriarche. “It appears Inspecteur Limier has been found.”

- CHAPTER 5 - MARCELLUS

THE HALLWAYS OF THE MINISTÈRE headquarters were buzzing with activity. Officers and cyborgs crisscrossed the pristine, chrome-tiled hallways, their heads bent over the broadcasts playing out on their TéléComs. Marcellus followed behind his grandfather and watched as people saluted and then scattered at the sight of the almighty general, the Regime’s most dedicated and loyal servant.

If only they knew, Marcellus thought bitterly.

The door to the Ministère’s Cyborg and Technology labs whooshed open, and Marcellus and the general stepped through into another hallway, this one brilliant white and immaculately sterile. Marcellus